


Established Relationship

by bluestalking, feverbeats



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Genderqueer Character, M/M, Multi, Other, Threesome, Villains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 07:46:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1461424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluestalking/pseuds/bluestalking, https://archiveofourown.org/users/feverbeats/pseuds/feverbeats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three villains are engaged in some petty emotional retaliation, some sex, some relationships, some personal attacks, some physical attacks, some gender issues, and some legitimate psychiatry. Established Gotham problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Established Relationship

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: mental UNHEALTH, violent sex, fear toxin, therapy, abusive relationship.

Harvey finds--or gets someone to find--Jonathan in a sealed elevator, gassed to the gills with his own fear toxin. When he stops screaming, they bring him back to Harvey’s office, and Harvey watches him fidget and writhe and squeal like a guinea pig. He gives Jonathan’s head a pat and tries to put the matter aside while he finalizes a few small deals.

Jonathan watches him, sort of, like he’s not sure what Harvey is or whether he likes what Harvey is doing. He gets out of the chair and lies on the floor. Harvey puts a foot near him, tries to get work done. Jonathan is not always a great ally but he _is_ a friend. In this state he’s not useful. And it’s probably Harvey’s fault that he’s ended up like this.

Harvey pours Jonathan a glass of water and sets it by his hand. He wishes he knew a sane psychiatrist, to ask advice. The good thing, such as it is, is that there’s not a huge difference between Jonathan poisoned and not. Good or not, it makes Harvey uncomfortable. He keeps checking Jonathan’s breathing.

Once he puts a hand over Jonathan’s mouth and Jonathan bursts out, “IS THAT YOU UP THERE, MR. DENT? YOUR HOVERING--IS LIKE--A FLOCK--OF RATS.”

“...sorry, I guess,” Harvey says, sitting back. He gives Jonathan more water. “How are you doing?”

“What are you putting near me, ratflock? Is it guilt? Did your little Eddie do something you didn’t like?”

“Yes, well, I guess that’s why you’re on my floor,” Harvey says. “Are you okay down there?”

“Fussy fussy,” Jonathan says. “God, you’re awful. _Stop, stop, stop.”_ He punctuates by punching the ground, although not hard.

Harvey says, “Do you need a doctor? A real one?”

Jonathan laughs, sort of, but it is not as convincing as what the Joker does. “This too shall pass!” he says encouragingly. “Like swords. In you. What do you like about him, anyway? What’s this in-- _side?”_

“Nothing,” Harvey growls. “I like nothing, today. Usually he’s just smart enough and just nice enough.”

“I am such a victim of your feelings,” Jonathan says to the carpet. “Spare me. Leave me, Mr. Dent. You’re getting them on me. You’re getting something on me--is that oil? Am I going to burn?” His voice shivers and his hands grasp at the floor.

“I should put you in Arkham,” Harvey mutters. “For your own good. Get up off the floor.”

“Mmmmmmmake mmmmme,” Jonathan says, eyes rolling up. “You put me here. You have such nice carpets. I like the back burn. Your eyes are just lovely.”

Harvey sighs, sits up again, sets his foot near Jonathan’s hands.

Jonathan asks, “Why do they call you Twoface, Mr. Dent?”

“Can’t you see?”

“I don’t remember,” Jonathan says. “I don’t remember seeing the answer to that. It’s a metaphor for your moods. Met a four. What if I mess up your little friend?”

“That too,” Harvey says. “I don’t need a psychiatrist to tell me that. You can barely stand.”

“Worry later. Do you have two heads?”

“Just one. How much worse than normal do you feel?”

“Oh, I am vastly better,” Jonathan says. “ Mr. Dent.”

“That’s not good.”

“Go talk to Eddie if you’re so worried,” Jonathan says. “He might know what he used. It wasn’t how I left it.”

“Trust me, I will ask.”

“If I were stupid enough to think it was because you like me. Or if I liked people. My heart would flutter.”

“I like a lot of things,” Harvey says. “Half the time.”

“My heart doesn’t care,” says Jonathan.

“There is something wrong with your heart,” Harvey tells him.

“Right now, yeah,” Jonathan says incredulously. He snaps his fingers. “Tachy--tachy something something. Fear isn’t healthy, Mr. Dent.”

“Maybe I should knock you out.”

“You know, I think I’ll go home now, actually.”

“Alone?” says Harvey. “I don’t recommend that.”

“What do you think is going to happen?” Jonathan says. “They won’t be worse than Twoface, will they?”

“Everything that just happened is worse than me,” Harvey says.

“What happened?” Jonathan says.

“I don’t need details to see you’re a mess. Even if you think I’m a flock of rodents, that can’t be worse.”

“Doctor Crane was angry and insane,” Jonathan says. “What a story. It’s nothing to make a production out of, Harvey.” He gets up. “Goodbye, goodbye. You’re really a rat.”

“Jonathan,” Harvey says cautiously.

“Harvey,” Jonathan says. “You already have a pet.” He leaves.

Harvey is going to have to do something about that pet.

~

Eddie’s in his old hideout, which is bold, but he’s pacing around, because he’s not stupid enough not to be nervous. It went a little far.

Harvey calls ahead. He says, “Tell me where you are, Eddie. Now.”

Eddie tells him, because it’s Harvey. Harvey says, “Don’t leave,” and hangs up. He’s growling. Eddie shudders back against the wall, scared but also excited. It was supposed to get results.

It takes some time for Harvey to get from his office to Eddie's failed hiding place. When he comes in he's cool as anything, and he doesn't slam the door. Eddie’s had enough time to stop mostly being excited and start being mostly scared.

“Harvey?” Eddie says.

“Want to tell me what you did?” Harvey says.

“Just a little of his own medicine.”

“Want to tell me why?”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. "What, you don't know? Come on, Harv. I did it because I wanted to save you all the grief he was going to cause you down the line. He isn't your friend. Tell me you're not that stupid."

“You wanted to do me a favor,” Harvey says. He’s not agreeing. He leaves it dead in the air. 

"Sure, that and the petty jealousy. But we have each other's backs, right?" Eddie’s back is against the wall. He still looks scared, like he isn't even trying to stop himself.

“What’s your game, Eddie?” Harvey says. “What is it that you do? Are you a businessman? Do you make a lot of deals? Do you do a lot of favors?”

"If I told you," Eddie says, "then it wouldn't be my game anymore. _That's_ the deal. But don't blame me if you don't like what happens to people who can't hack it in this city."

Harvey takes his hand out of his pocket. His fist is clenched around the coin, although he didn’t take hold of it consciously. “The thing about deals, in business,” Harvey says, “is that when someone goes around making them in your name, people tend to think you were involved. Even when you really, really weren’t.” He gives the coin an angry flick, catches it roughly, says, without looking at the outcome, “I don’t like favors I don’t ask for, Eddie.”

Eddie is angry. "I should have known. You're _defending_ him. You actually feel bad for that little prick. Whatever I did, it must have been effective."

Harvey laughs, a dry sound huffing through his nose like it hurts. “Jonathan Crane is a psychotic wreck and he likes it that way. Poisoning him? You could hurt him just as easy standing in the same room with him and not saying a word. He wouldn’t care either way. I wouldn’t care.” That’s almost true, at times. “That’s not the problem, Eddie.”

"So what's the problem?" Eddie asks, almost casually.

“Deciding for me,” says Harvey.

Eddie laughs sharply. "Does it hurt? Having someone make your choices for you? Having them hand-pick what's safe, what's dangerous, what needs to be settled and mended and squared away?" He pauses, hands in his pockets. "It's a shitty riddle because the answer's so obvious. Trust me."

“I was telling him,” Harvey says, “while he was lying on the ground earlier, that I like you ‘cause you’re a nice guy. Pretty nice, pretty smart.” He flicks his coin. “You’re not either of those things today, are you, Eddie? Had to be jealous. Had to get proprietary. Had to get stupid.” 

" _Harvey_ ," Eddie says almost pityingly. "Oh, today you are Harvey. Sorry, but you're actually the nicest guy on the block. Don't be disappointed that I'm not. Really, on the ground? I like that."

Harvey sighs, tucks his coin in his pocket, grabs Eddie by the collar, and slams him so hard against the wall that his knees give out under him.

“Answer this riddle,” Harvey says. “If you’re not so nice and you’re not so smart, what do I need you for, Eddie?”

"If you don't need me, why waste your time hurting me?" His teeth are chattering and his eyes are wide. Fear, elation, hard to say. "Come on, Harv, let's be friends."

“I hurt a lot of people,” Harvey says. “It doesn’t mean much.” He turns away. “Don’t fuck with me, Eddie. Don’t fuck up my business. You’re only in good with me as long I pity you just a little bit.”

"And when you stop?" Eddie asks. There's an edge to his voice. "Maybe I'd rather be your rival than your--" his voice twists with disgust, "--boy-toy."

“Your call,” Harvey says. “But the next time you fuck with something of mine--my reputation or my contacts, the goddamn polish on my shoes--because your _feelings are hurt,_ I’m going to kill you.”

"Something of yours," Eddie repeats. "Thank you, Harvey. I'll remember that. Have a good night, now."

Eddie always likes to read sentiment into words where Harvey doesn’t have any, but staying to convince Eddie of that will only make it worse. Harvey will have to look after Jonathan more, now, which is irritating, and only likely to inspire Eddie to further acts of rebellious, destructive idiocy.

“I had planned to,” he says. Because it might have been a nice night, if Eddie hadn’t decided to screw it up. He heads for the door. “Keep out of trouble.”

Eddie makes a sound like the beginning of a word, thinks better of it, and stays quiet as Harvey walks away.

~

Eddie gets a little giggly after Harvey leaves, but he calms himself down by telling himself that the last thing he wants to do is become the Joker over a breakup. Just residual adrenaline and fear. It might not even be a breakup. Hard to say, with Harvey.

He can go crawling to Harvey tomorrow, telling him _sorry_ and begging to be taken back--but maybe Harvey isn't the answer to this one. No, take a different approach, different angle of attack. The problem looks less like a problem that way. Okay. Easy. He just needs to see Jonathan. He couldn't _kill_ Jonathan, could he? No, definitely not. They can hash it out like--ha--men, and then Eddie will have what it takes to solve the Harvey problem.

~

Dr. Crane has not been taking many patients lately. He likes his free time, and he prefers his out-of-office colleagues not to know his office exists. Some of them get offended when they remember his methods. Besides, his patients seem to be dropping off the roster like flies. (Flies don’t have rosters. Even so.) 

He had two appointments scheduled for today. He let the first one sit in the waiting room for an hour before he saw her. She cried on her way out. The second one he thinks he might see on time, so that he can get an early start on other things this evening. In the interval, he might--

But someone else comes in. Dr. Crane hears the bell and comes out to the waiting room, appointment book in hand.

“Hello?” he offers. There’s someone who knows how to find his office.

"Hi," Eddie says. He looks around and blows on his hands like they're cold. "Hi, Jonathan. Are you seeing someone? Are you sane?"

“Do you have an appointment?” Dr. Crane asks. “Did someone pencil you in last minute?” There’s no one else. He pencils in everything. The book tells him that he penciled in _something._ He doesn’t think his recall is usually this bad.

"Sure," Eddie says easily. "If that's what it takes to see you today. You look--Okay, you don't look as bad as I thought you might. Harvey was overreacting." He fidgets with his hands, looking expectant.

“Come into my office,” says Dr. Crane, ushering Eddie out of the waiting room and towards a spacious room with a desk and a couch and a couple of chairs and a potted plant that must be alive through its own miraculous powers.

"You must be pissed," Eddie says. "Or nuts. But how would I tell? You're always pissed and you're always nuts. Look, maybe I took it a little far."

Dr. Crane shuts the door behind them. “Now, Eddie, the first rule is that I’ll never talk about anything personal during a session. This is your time, you see.” He sits down, glances out the window, decides he’s never finished diagnosing the Riddler before--their consultations in Arkham never got that far--but that someone ought to. He starts sketching a short list of maladies on a notepad.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie mutters. "Jonathan, I really want to talk. I don't need--I don't _want_ therapy. I wish I hadn't done that. It ended up causing way too much trouble."

“Most patients feel a little hostile towards therapy initially,” Dr. Crane says. “But wanting to talk is a good start. Talk to me about your regrets.”

Eddie grits his teeth. "Okay," he says slowly and deliberately. "I regret locking you in that elevator." He pauses. "Well, no, I really don't. And I don't regret the fear toxin. But I should have left it at that. Let the punishment fit the crime, right? And I shouldn't have gotten anyone else involved, anyway. It was sloppy and mean. So I regret that."

Dr. Crane frowns. “So you see yourself as an agent of justice. What’s the _crime_ you feel you were punishing?”

"Are you kidding?" Eddie demands. "You slept with my boyfriend!" He flushes. Then, "No, I don't care how it sounds. That's what you did and I'm pissed off about it. You were also getting involved with my business partner and sticking your nose in my territory, but really? You slept with my boyfriend."

Dr. Crane leans back in his chair and taps the end of his pen against his nose. “So--this is a domestic issue. You were jealous. But instead of confronting your sexual partner, you assaulted, kidnapped, and poisoned someone you believed he had sex with?” He frowns. “Let’s not speak to whether any of the parties involved is a ‘good’ person. Let’s start with your words. I’m afraid I’m not very clear on how _the punishment fits the crime._ ”

Eddie sighs. "Okay, let me reframe this for you: Have _you_ ever tried to get revenge on Harvey? He's just a lot bigger than me."

“I’ll remind you that we are not here to talk about me,” Dr. Crane says. “I’d like to hear more on the nature of your relationship with Harvey.”

"Come on!" Eddie snaps. "You're acting like this is--Never mind, right, _crazy_." Jonathan doesn’t bat an eye. Eddie takes a deep breath and stares at the ceiling. "I don't know, right? Does anyone here have a normal relationship? We work together. He protects me. We sleep together. He hurts me. We _like_ each other. Which is why I'm not clear on why he's interested in running around with someone else who has nothing I don't."

“Eddie, Eddie, it’s all about communication,” Dr. Crane says. “Talk to Harvey first, before you try to murder people. There’s a time and place for all of these things. Maybe once we’ve worked on your attachment issues, we can explore some techniques for prioritization and situationally appropriate responses.”

Eddie stares at him for a minute. "Um," he says in a small voice, "that's actually good advice. It even takes into account our bizarre lifestyle."

“Don’t feel you have to demonize your way of life just because it isn’t mainstream,” Dr. Crane says, and then trails off. Eddie really hadn’t been very nice. Poor Scarecrow can still feel the bruises on his arms, and his heart rate hasn’t returned entirely to normal despite everything he’s done to counteract the effects of the toxin.

“Are you scared because he fucks someone else, or because you’re so very replaceable?” he asks. 

Eddie gives a surprised little laugh. "What? Both. But I'm not. I'm not! I'm smarter and cleverer and cuter than you."

“Awful to think it doesn’t matter,” Jonathan says. “Such an upset. He can’t possibly like me as much as he likes you, is that it?”

"Well, yeah," Eddie grumbles.

“You’re always playing,” Jonathan says, “but you never understand the game. Why does it matter if he likes you at all?”

"If he doesn't--" Eddie stops. "Well, I always figured I'd die if he wasn't there looking out for me. But now I'm not so sure. Maybe I can change the game. My rules, this time. What do you think?"

Jonathan laughs, short and squeaky. “You just love to miss the point,” he says. “He could love you so much it breaks his heart in two, Eddie, and he’d still throw you over if it was the shrewd move to make. Why does it matter _too him?_ He’s not that kind of man.” He smiles, and then doesn’t. “I understand that. Why don’t you?”

Eddie looks at him for a long moment. "Don't know," he says. "Guess I'm just kind of a sap. So maybe that's why I care. Sorry to disappoint."

Jonathan snaps forward in his chair, hands digging into the leather arms. “ _I don’t care,”_ he hisses. He puts himself very carefully back in place. “What kind of validation are you trying to get out of this, Eddie?” he says. “What do you want to learn, here?” He holds up a finger, and says reasonably, “You can’t solve your problem by murdering anyone, remember, so if that’s what you’re thinking, take a second and find another answer in there. If you don’t, I’ll have to sedate you, and maybe I’ll shoot you. No one will blame me.”

"Harvey would blame you, I think," Eddie says. He stands up. "I'm leaving. Thanks for the advice. The part about talking first was good. You know where to bill me."

Jonathan leans his head back. “Were you my two o’clock?” he asks.

"Oh," Eddie says, "no, I don't think so. But if there's anyone waiting, I can tell them to leave, if you want."

“I’m not the one who needs validation,” Jonathan says. “Or protection, for that matter. Go on, get out. I already have enough backlog of paperwork to keep me here half the night. That was a pathetic excuse for an apology.”

Eddie hesitates. "I don't know if I was _trying_ to apologize. But sorry, anyway. Like I said, it was mean. But you'll be okay. Harvey's right, who can tell the difference?" He turns his collar up and gets out fast.

~

Harvey expects Eddie back because he’s persistent as hell and doesn’t know what’s good for him. Harvey’s not as furious at that point, because it’s a good day, but he’s still displeased that Eddie overreaches and doesn’t see the problem. 

Eddie shows up looking ruffled by the wind, but not too out of sorts. 

"Hi," he says. "How's your day going?" More often than not, he checks.

“Better than yesterday,” Harvey says. “What do you want, Eddie?”

Eddie holds up his hands. "No angle. Not right now." Hard to tell if he means it. "I talked to Jonathan. His _professional_ advice was that I should talk things out with you next time before getting violent. Maybe he doesn't really know how hard you can be to talk to."

Harvey raises an eyebrow. The ugly one. “Professional?” He doesn’t know how much Jonathan has improved since yesterday, but that is not an inspiring turn of phrase.

"I had a session," Eddie says daintily. "With full-on Dr. Crane. I'm not really sure what I did. He got a little angry at the end, at least."

“You’d better hope that’s a good sign,” Harvey says. “He wasn’t lying on the floor, was he?”

"No," Eddie says. "He seemed...sane. I completely broke him, didn't I? I'm sorry."

“We’ll see,” Harvey says. He’s compiling in ascending order of disastrousness all of the things any one of Jonathan’s seemingly lucid moods might mean. “You aren’t really jealous of _him,_ are you?”

"Not in the sense that I'd ever want to be in his shoes," Eddie says. "But come on, Harv, fucking another young, attractive, brilliant criminal? Did you really think I wouldn't wonder if you were bored of looking out for me?"

“What did we say about talking out our feelings?” Harvey says, and sighs sufferingly. If he doesn’t throw a few bones, Eddie won’t stop chasing rabbits. “It brings him around a little. And I don’t mind being a little less nice. But you can’t exactly converse with Jonathan Crane in the usual way, can you?”

"Do you have to do it with your _dick_?" Eddie asks nastily.

“I don’t remember any agreement between you and me,” Harvey says. “And I’m not likely to make one.”

Eddie gives a little huff. "I get that. But if there aren't rules on your end, do there have to be rules on mine? If Jonathan can do any crazy thing he wants and you can beat up or fuck anything _you_ want, why do _I_ get in trouble with everyone when I cause a little--difficulty?"

Harvey growls. “Don’t play stupid,” he says. “You don’t go after one of your own because you’re jealous over something that hardly exists. You don’t want to give me respect, that’s your choice, but don’t expect me to be happy about it when you pitch a fit and I have to clean up your messes. Which happen to be my friends.”

"Fuck," Eddie says with feeling. "Yeah. I mean, that all makes sense in a world where everyone's you and they all believe in rules and codes of conduct, even kind of messed up ones. But this isn't the _mob_. You're the one who doesn't get it."

Harvey waits.

" _There are not rules_ ," Eddie hisses. "Those assholes were all ready to tear Jonathan apart, because they don't care. Nobody cares but you, not about playing fair or power balances or keeping the peace in the community. We're not community; we're maniacs. So you can tell me how to keep Jonathan in his place or what you'll do to make me useful, but you're playing your game alone. They're all just shooting in the dark and not even keeping score."

“Maybe so,” Harvey says. “But they still know I’m winning.” He punches a fist against the surface of his desk. “What exactly do you want from me, Eddie? It’s an obvious cry for attention.”

"Uh, yeah," Eddie says, quiet and fast. "Yeah, Harv. That's what I want. Attention. Sometimes the answer's really fucking simple."

Harvey looks startled at that, and then awkward--although it can be a little hard to tell. 

“Are you going to keep this up until I drop him cold?” he wonders.

"No," Eddie says, after a moment's consideration. "Just until you give me the time of day again. It's not that I can't share. It's that you spend so much time juggling mister difficult-to-juggle that I get left out in the cold."

Now Harvey looks downright moody. “Sometimes projects take longer than you expect. It’s hardly a personal comment on you.”

"But I take it personally," Eddie says. "Because I'm minorly unhinged."

Harvey laughs. “I’d say so. Who told you to hang onto all these comfortable expectations?”

"Hope springs eternal," Eddie says flatly. "Anyway, what else am I supposed to hang onto?"

Harvey sighs. “Eddie,” he says. But there’s very little to follow that up which won’t drop a hornets’ nest of things Harvey doesn’t want to discuss right at his feet.

"I’m good. Just as long as we're past the stage where you throw me into walls." He twitches his shoulders self-consciously. "And as long as Jon doesn't try to murder me."

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” Harvey says. “As far as Jonathan knows, he’s a separate issue. A negligible one. If it’s _partner_ you’re aiming for, maybe a different tactic next time.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. " _Is_ he a separate issue? For you, I mean."

Harvey smiles. “What makes you the most unhappy, Eddie? If he’s a vulnerable friend, a volatile resource, or a fuck on the side?”

"The first one," Eddie says quickly. "Obviously. _I'm_ supposed to be your vulnerable friend." No self-consciousness there, except in his body language, which is perpetually self-conscious.

“Trust me, Eddie,” Harvey says. “You are. And I keep you around, even though, let’s be honest, in practical terms, you’re not that useful to me.” He shrugs. “Jonathan is useful, but he’s not always the best conversationalist.” He turns and pours himself a drink. “He’s not even a great fuck, necessarily, when it’s really useful for me to fuck him.”

Eddie laughs half-heartedly. "God. I'm sure that's true. And it makes me feel better, even if none of it's very nice." He comes further into the room, right up behind Harvey. "You're ruthless. It's very endearing."

“Is it?” says Harvey, sipping his brandy. “I’m not saying you’ve got to like Jonathan Crane, Ed, but what’ve I got to do, to get you to play nice?”

"Try something and see if it sticks," Eddie says in that casual voice that's meant to cover up how careful he's trying to be. "It's not as if he's always so nice to me. Just try, and maybe I'll think about it."

“Try something,” Harvey repeats. “All right, I’m in a good mood, I’ll play. What do you want? Custody of my free time? Detailed reports on all my encounters with any associate you don’t care for? Hidden cameras? Exclusive rights to sweet nothings?”

"You could just tell me you're not in love with him," Eddie says tightly. "And that you respect me more than any of the others. One truth, one lie. I'll take it."

Harvey bursts out laughing. “In _love_? Hardly. And anyway, Eddie, you know you must be worth something more than sex, or I wouldn’t bother talking. You’re good for that, when you’re not throwing a tantrum.”

Eddie gives him a little smile, equal parts hopeful and pleased. "Okay. Sure, I know that. So--we're good. We're good?"

“Make nice,” Harvey says. “Then we’re good.”

"With him?" Eddie asks. "I just--didn't, exactly. What do you want? A better apology? I could suck his dick. That's a good apology." Hard to tell if he's joking.

Harvey sighs through his nose and takes a long sip. “You’re the Riddler. You figure it out.”

Eddie makes a disgusted noise. "Fair. Fine. I can do that. You're impossible. I'll be back later, god willing. Ha."

“Don’t break him twice,” Harvey says.

"I, personally, do not have that power," Eddie says. "I hope. Bye, Harv." He gives a little wave and takes off out the door.

Harvey wonders if it’s too late to leave Gotham, and start over in a city where no pretty boys are waiting around every corner to hang off him _needing things._

~

Jonathan is late leaving the office after all, to his annoyance, and it gives Eddie time to catch him. Again. By the time Eddie comes back, it's dark out, and snowing. Eddie is shivering worse than before, but he's also grinning.

"I'm back!" he says when he comes into Jonathan's office unannounced. "I got you something. It's not a trick or a trap."

“Let me guess,” Jonathan says, hand pausing palm upward just under his mouth. Eddie can’t tell if he’s holding mints or pills. Maybe Jonathan doesn’t know the difference. “It’s a riddle.”

"No," Eddie says. "The gift isn't the riddle. But the reason I got you a gift at all might be. Here." He tosses Jonathan something, something black and blue that lands with a flop in front of him. It's a felted, brimmed hat, damp with snow.

“Knowing you,” says Jonathan. He jiggles the pills (or mints) in his palm a few times. “Harvey isn’t angry, but he will be if you don’t suck up, or back down, or whatever.”

"You're good at riddles," Eddie says. "Unfortunately. I really do feel bad about some it, though. I think I'd be your friend if you weren't so condescending."

“It’s very honest of you to say that,” Jonathan says, meaning nothing, maybe screwing with him, maybe just out of it. Jonathan closes his fist around the pills and lowers his arm. “But why the hat?” He narrows his eyes. “Is it a _head case?”_

Eddie laughs. "I'm not the Joker. No, it's just a hat. I thought you might look good in hats. And I thought you probably wouldn't think to get one, even though it's freezing out there. So I'm looking out for you. How about that."

“Good effort,” Jonathan says. He puts the hat on his head. “What do you say? Was it really me you were looking for?”

"Yeah," Eddie says quietly. "Wow. You look nice. You _do_ make a good pair."

“Oh dear,” Jonathan says. “You’re thinking too much, you know, Eddie.”

Eddie blinks at him. "I _know_. I can't stop it, you know, not any more than you can stop seeing things. It's what's wrong with me. It's not supposed to be rational." He flicks a piece of fluff off his sleeve. "I know he doesn't have feelings for you."

“Of course you can’t help it. He takes it seriously,” Jonathan says. “It’s all a game, he takes it so seriously. He likes to win elegantly, not just win. You make it so hard when you capture his bishops. You’re not even in the game, are you? And you come along and gobble up the pieces.” He touches a finger to the brim of the hat and a drop of water runs down it. “No one likes their toys being broken.”

Eddie grimaces. "You understand all that and it doesn't bother you? What are _you_ getting out of it? Obviously not protection. I don't think you care _that_ much about sex. And he's not doing anything else for you. What's left?"

“Puzzles,” Jonathan says. 

"Puzzles," Eddie repeats. "Do you like those?"

“They’re a kind of game, aren’t they?” Jonathan says. “And the prize is putting every piece in its place.”

Eddie gives a little sigh and half closes his eyes. " _Yes_ ," he says. "Only you play it with people most of the time. I try not to do that. It's risky."

“Don’t misunderstand,” Jonathan says. “ _I’m_ not the one who likes games. Sometimes it’s worth being toyed with to be all one piece.” He waves a hand. “That’s what I get out of it. You did ask.”

Eddie watches him. Then he says, "Hm. I could do that. Better than Harv."

“Because puzzles are more like riddles than games,” Jonathan says. “That’s dragging it out a little, Eddie. The metaphor. You don’t want to fuck me.” He sets the pills, or whatever, down on the desk, and touches his hand to the hat again. “I have so much to do. We can schedule another session for you next week if you like.”

"No," Eddie says. "I think I've had enough of that. And you're wrong. Of course I want to fuck you. I want to fuck everyone. And now my professional pride's wounded. Harvey is insensitive and blunt. If you want someone to watch your back when you're falling to pieces, you want someone sharp. Don't forget it."

“This is highly inappropriate,” Jonathan says, his eyes going pleasant and distant in a specifically familiar way.

"Yeah," Eddie says, back in his comfort zone. "It is. I can't wait. If you're terribly busy now, I can fuck you tomorrow. Or whenever would be most convenient for you."

“What?” Jonathan says. Just _what?_

"I want to have sex with you to improve and stabilize your mental health," Eddie says levelly. "Because it will be challenging and also, I think, hot."

“You’re scared Harvey will leave you for me,” Jonathan says reasonably. “That isn’t really the same as being interested in my mental health. Didn’t you say you don’t like to play with people? Someone told me you put me in an elevator full of screaming.”

"I said _usually_ I don't," Eddie sighs. "And yes, I did. That's not the part I feel bad about. Look, I only care about your mental health because I think I can do it better than he can."

“Oh, I see,” Jonathan says. “You mean if you can look after me better than he can, you have more value and he won’t let you go.”

"It's not about him!" Eddie snaps. "I talked to him, like you said, all right? We're--all settled. I don't think he wants to let me go. I just want to be the best because--who doesn't?"

“All right,” Jonathan says. “All right. Try it, then.”

"Fine." Eddie shrugs and comes over to Jonathan. He puts his hand on Jonathan's face and digs his fingers in a little. "Do you kiss?"

“Really I do anything,” Jonathan says. “Or, maybe I should say, I’ll let _you_ do anything. Are you sure it’s not a little about him?”

"Is the sex you have with him about him?" Eddie asks. "It's about the same as that, I'd say. He's relevant, but not the point." He kisses Jonathan, with teeth. Jonathan moans, and then shivers, from the shoulders down. He leans back against his desk, maybe inviting Eddie to press closer. It feels just as much like pulling away, though, and with Jonathan it could be both.

Eddie's going to wait until Jonathan punches him to stop. He kisses him harder and grabs a fistful of his shirt, then ducks to kiss his throat. "Mm, good," he mutters. "Show me you."

Jonathan leans his elbows back on the desk, head tilted back, breathing in shivers. He’s muttering things that Eddie could probably hear if he tried. Eddie ignores it. Probably safer. Maybe this is what Harvey feels like fucking--well, either of them. He gets his hands on Jonathan's hips and squeezes. "You're a work of art, Jon."

“Piece of work,” Jonathan says. “Working piecemeal. What are you afraid of, Edward?”

Eddie laughs against Jonathan's collarbone. "It's not a short list." He undoes Jonathan's top button. Jonathan whines and fusses, like a puppy that’s too puppy-stupid to know where it wants to be or what it wants to do.

"I can put you on the floor," Eddie offers. "Or the couch. I don't have to do you like this." He gives Jonathan a serious, appraising look.

“Anything you like,” Jonathan says. “I’m really here to help _you_ with _your needs.”_ He blinks fast.

"No," Eddie says, perturbed. "You don't _sleep_ with your patients. It's illegal. Besides, I gave up therapy."

“Illegal,” Jonathan says. “Well then. I should probably stop doing that, _what an absurd thing to say to me, Edward.”_

"You are so fucking unnerving," Eddie says a little testily. He doesn't like being called Edward. He unbuttons Jonathan's shirt the rest of the way and licks one of his nipples.

“I could have sworn I wore an undershirt today,” Jonathan says, sounding almost lucid, until he kicks Eddie in the shin.

Eddie yelps and stumbles backwards. Nobody said this would be easy. "What the hell?" he demands. "You _said_ to fuck you!"

“No one is stopping you,” Jonathan says in a reasonable hiss. There’s color in his cheeks, now, that wasn’t there when they started.

" _You_ stopped me," Eddie says. "Is this what you and Harvey do? Because I don't think he's into pain." He rubs his shin and contemplates kissing Jonathan again.

“It’s not about getting off,” Jonathan says. “Come back. Eddie, come back immediately.” His eyes are always too big for his face. They’re getting alarming.

"Coming back," Eddie says promptly. He responds well to--strongly worded requests. This time he grabs Jonathan's hair, but not too hard, and kisses his jaw.

Jonathan's head lolls back in Eddie's grip. "Taking control of your life," he murmurs. “Laudable. Or are you bored of always being on the bottom?" Not an insult. Jonathan doesn't care.

"Sure, and that," Eddie says, grazing Jonathan's jaw with his teeth. "I like a little novelty in my sex as much as the next guy."

"Guy," says Jonathan thoughtfully and sharp.

Eddie makes a little "you caught me" noise, tilting his head. "You really are good at riddles." He grabs Jonathan's hair harder and bites down on his shoulder.

Jonathan goes pleasantly boneless. 

"Hm," Eddie says. "Mm. Nice."

"Hurry up," Jonathan says. "I have plans. I'm not here to lounge."

Eddie grabs Jonathan's belt and whips it off. He doesn't like it fast, but it's no shock that Jonathan does. He kisses Jonathan viciously, fingers undoing Jonathan's pants.

Jonathan rears up against him, communicating _something,_ but Eddie isn’t sure what.

"What do you want?" Eddie asks quizzically, not really expecting a straight answer. "What _do_ you want?"

“What will you do?” Jonathan says. “What _will_ you do? This isn’t a good place to fuck.” He pats the arms of his chair.

"Do you have a bed?" Eddie asks distractedly.

“Yes, I have a bed,” Jonathan says sarcastically. “Here, in my office. Because I’m as much of a slut as you are. I just love fucking on the job. What’s wrong, can’t you manage with anything else?”

"Definitely not sorry about the fear toxin," Eddie mutters. "Okay, how about you get up and I fuck you over your desk?" He hauls Jonathan upright by his collar. Jonathan dangles there, smiling with darting eyes. 

“The important thing to remember,” Jonathan says, “is that size does _not_ matter. It’s a popular fallacy. So to speak.”

Eddie laughs, delighted. "Oh, that's good. I like that. Also, what are you trying to say, Jon?" He gives Jonathan a polite little shove up against the desk.

“I’m not trying to say anything,” Jonathan says, equally polite. “But I haven’t seen you naked and this whole encounter is obviously about compensation. I would hate you to think you need to compensate for anything more than Harvey Dent.”

"Not my particular hangup," Eddie says, whether it's true or not. "But if you'll show me yours . . ." He gets Jonathan's shirt the rest of the way off. Jonathan gasps and repeats the little motion where he seems to press closer and pull away at the same time. He lets Eddie get his arms out of the sleeves and then latches onto him with fingers like claws.

"You writhe around worse than I do," Eddie says. He gropes Jonathan a little, in case it'll settle him down. Jonathan flattens down onto the desk, crooning and probably not all there, sending things skittering over the sides and crashing to the ground.

“Harvey hits,” Jonathan says breathlessly, in his pretty, high voice. “Don’t worry if you’re not comfortable with that.” He’s tilting his head back, staring at the wall where all his credentials are hanging. Someone was stupid enough to give him those.

"I can hit," Eddie says, miffed. Maybe not like Harvey, but he _can_. He slaps Jonathan. "I think I can get a little color in your cheeks."

Jonathan fights and flops in almost equal parts, but Eddie thinks the sum is positive. "Let's test that," Jonathan says. "But not too much. I have work to do."

"I can get you off so fast," Eddie says pleasantly, smacking him again.

Jonathan whines, and then stops resisting altogether. He’s bright pink, and white around the edges.

"You're not the handful I imagined," Eddie says, grateful for it. Then again, it could just be that he's _better at things_ than Harvey. He shoves his hand into Jonathan's pants and scrapes the nails of his other hand down Jonathan's neck. Jonathan screeches loudly enough that Eddie takes a second to wonder who lives in the adjacent building.

Fuck it. He holds Jonathan down and strokes him roughly, not letting up long enough for Jonathan to twist away and escape in a flighty change of mood. Jonathan makes frustrated, howling noises, and claws at every part of Eddie he can reach.

_Am I this kind of sexy?_ Eddie wonders. It _is_ sexy. He lets Jonathan give him minor injuries while he jerks him off. He hits him again, a little harder, just to see. Jonathan snarls, and his eyes flash, and then he blinks, and when his eyes open again he looks distant and dazed. Not quite the same look he had when he was trying to diagnose Eddie in the middle of an apology.

Not the same look Eddie gets when people hit him, either. He'd be curious to find out the differences sometime. For now, he twists his wrist and drags his nails across Jonathan's skin. Jonathan makes a noise that crosses between growling and screaming and hits Eddie back, hard.

“ _Fuck,”_ he says viciously.

Eddie makes a surprised little yip, but he doesn't _stop_. And then Jonathan hits him again, harder.

“Fuck _me,”_ Jonathan spits. “Don’t cheat and use your hand. Or doesn’t your body do that for you? Can’t get it up if you’re not put down?”

Embarrassingly, Jonathan really does it for Eddie. It's his voice, or the way he chooses his words, or both. "I don't have condoms or lube, so you'll have to deal with it," Eddie says breathlessly.

“Hah!” says Jonathan, and it is actually impossible to tell just by looking whether he’s more anxious about the idea or more excited. Because there is _everything wrong_ with Jonathan Crane.

"O _kay_ ," Eddie says, deciding to just go for it. "Gonna fuck you over your desk till you black out. Sound good?" Jonathan probably will black out. Eddie hopes that doesn't happen. He gives Jonathan an encouraging little shove.

Jonathan wheeps ( _just like a guinea pig,_ seriously) and reaches up to grab at Eddie’s neck with his fingernails. “Considerate of you to plan,” he says whispily.

Eddie pushes Jonathan into a semi-accessible position and gets his own pants open. "Yes or no?" he asks, not really expecting a useful answer.

“I always have something,” Jonathan says smoothly. “If you want something. Tell me, is discomfort a vital component of your sexual activities?”

"Not other people's," Eddie says. Not his, either, really. It just happens a lot. "I do want it. Thanks." He gives Jonathan's hair a yank to show he's still serious. Jonathan extricates himself from Eddie’s grip and trips out of his pants on his way around the desk. 

“Here,” he says, digging in the drawer. “You never know when you might have a visitor.” He holds out the tube and looks expectantly at Eddie. Expectant and shifty.

"Okay," Eddie says. He takes it from Jonathan's hand. "Now get back here. Face-down over the desk." Now he's thinking about Harvey doing this, which, while infuriating, is no less arousing.

“Point of note,” Jonathan says, raising his hand. “You might have heard rumors, but this isn’t exactly work, is it? I’m not really a taking orders sort of a man.”

"Not even when you're coming down from a fear high and you can barely see straight?" Eddie asks dubiously. "But I guess I can fuck you in the ass without telling you what to do." God, Jonathan is _hot_.

Jonathan ignores the challenge and stands there, eyes getting larger and more demanding and more infuriating every moment.

Eddie sighs, rounds the desk, kicks the chair out of the way, and pushes Jonathan down across the desk. He likes it better when he can't see his face every second.

Jonathan makes a little sound like _whumph,_ pressing the heels of his hands against the desk, curling his fingers in.

Eddie squeezes some lube into his hand and waits a second before putting it anywhere else, in case it's secretly acid. It doesn't seem to be. "Relax," he suggests. Before Jonathan can respond, Eddie pushes a finger inside. He doesn't _actually_ want this to hurt too much. If he wanted to hurt Jonathan, he'd lock him in an elevator again. He wonders if Jonathan or Harvey gets that.

Jonathan moans and presses his face against the desk, then arches up to bat his glasses off his face. Eddie swallows and rocks his hips against Jonathan a little, trailing his free hand across his back while he fingers him.

“Don’t linger too long,” Jonathan says. “If you do, I’ll probably stab you with something.” He takes a couple of gasping breaths and adds, “Which you deserve. If you’re not insured you owe me a hundred and fifty dollars.”

"I appreciate the honesty," Eddie says. "All of it." Jonathan _billing_ him should not be hot. He swipes some lube over the head of his dick and pushes inside, fast.

Jonathan screams (of _course_ he does), raw and loud and probably he’s not the only person in this building who works late. He writhes against the desk, grabbing at nothing and growling into the wood.

"Fuck," Eddie says. "Fuck, _fuck_." He grips Jonathan's hips, digs his nails in, and fucks him. Jonathan is loud, violent, and easy. He frees a hand and tries to grab at his own cock. “Jesus, _yes,_ ” Eddie says. He’s not going to stop Jonathan. He’s not mean and controlling like Harvey.

Jonathan shoves back from the desk to make room for his hand, reaches down, and starts making the prettiest noises Eddie’s ever heard.

“Uh, oh my _godjesuschrist,_ ” Eddie gasps. “Gonna come in a sec.” Jonathan garbles something that might be _ladies first_ and starts shaking and laughing at the same time. Eddie isn’t sure if that’s cruel or kind or _what_ , but his body doesn’t care. His hips jerk and he mumbles, “Can I, inside, gonna--"

"What did I say?" Jonathan demands. "Do it!"

Eddie covers his mouth with his hand and does, pinning Jonathan to the desk with his body.

Jonathan hisses, kicking and gasping, but he goes still when Eddie finishes coming.

"Fuck, god," Eddie says. "Jonathan."

Jonathan breathes shallowly under him. "All questions answered?" he asks with difficulty.

"Ha ha," Eddie says. "Never. But that was great." He pushes himself back against the wall shakily.

"Was it?" Jonathan says nastily.

Eddie dresses himself so he won't have to look at Jonathan. "Yeah. I had fun. I get what Harvey sees in you, even though you seem like more than he could handle."

"Fuck you," Jonathan snarls, falling back into the closest chair with a thump. "At least _Harvey_ bothers to see if he's finished me off. And he almost never tortures me at all."

Eddie bites his lip. "Sorry. I didn’t--” He assumed, like an idiot. Honestly. This was supposed to be an apology. "Come here and let me touch you."

"Almost as if you think you're really here for my benefit," Jonathan says. His arms are on the rests, relaxed, but his eyes are going elsewhere. Through him. Into him.

"I am," Eddie says quietly. At worst, it'll sound like a play.

"Let's come back to that," Jonathan says. His anger looks slightly pleading.

"Uh huh," Eddie agrees. "How 'bout I suck your dick?"

Jonathan smiles and says quickly, "Please do it. Rough is just fine." 

Eddie grins, charmed, and gets on his knees. He uses his nails on Jonathan's hips, and he uses teeth. Now Jonathan relaxes, sinking into the chair and whimpering and shivering, jumping when Eddie punctuates with his teeth. "Fingers?" he suggests, stuttering a little.

Eddie complies without answering, not wanting to interrupt himself. After a minute, Jonathan quiets, taut and panting. "No offense taken," he says. "No harm--Come here, please." He catches Eddie under the chin and drags him up into a vicious kiss. Jonathan's hand is back on his cock. Eddie's fingers are still inside him. He complains into Eddie's mouth and then comes with teeth and screaming.

"Can't handle you either," Eddie pants after a second. It's a compliment. "So great."

"I think we've learned a lot," Jonathan says, assured and shaking. This is what he does, isn't it? Ride some line on both sides of control charos that's impossible to parse.

"Agreed," Eddie says with feeling. "I should go. Let you rest." It's too early in the game for snuggling.

"Work," Jonathan corrects him, eyes large.

Eddie stares at him, mesmerized. "Right. I'll be back soon." For an appointment? Sex? To see how his plan is unraveling? All of the above.

"I'm sure we'll run into one another," Jonathan says. He frowns. "For whatever reason you think of next."

~

Eddie is midway through a project, his place is a mess, and he's still in pajamas when Harvey shows up at his door.

"Oh," he says. "Hi, Harv."

"Hi," Harvey half growls. "Invite me in."

"Like a vampire or something?" Eddie says. "Okay. You're invited."

Harvey steps inside and looks around. "What am I interrupting? Tell me it's a different plan from your latest."

"Tell me my latest and I'll say if it's that," Eddie says, leaving Harvey with the door to start collecting errant possessions from where they've been abandoned.

"How's Jonathan?" Harvey snaps, unamused. He hates it when Eddie gets cute.

" _Oh,_ " Eddie says. "Were you watching, did you talk to him first, or are you just guessing? Or," he says, "oh, the elevator thing. I kind of forgot."

Harvey narrows his eyes. "Did you...apologize?" Doesn't sound like he did, exactly.

"Guess that answers that one," Eddie mutters. He picks up a sock, and then another. "Um, yes. I mean, I did apologize."

"Sounds like it didn't go as badly as it should have," Harvey says suspiciously. He should be glad, but he doesn't trust it. Doesn't trust Eddie.

“It went fine,” Eddie says. He shuffles off to his bedroom, because his hands are full of socks. “Did you--come here for any specific reason, Harvey?”

"I want you to keep me fucking in the know," Harvey snarls, the bad side clamoring to get his hands on Eddie and hurt him. He hopes Eddie can hear it in his voice.

“All right!” Eddie says. “Sorry.” He puts the socks down and picks up a box of lightbulbs. “I apologized. Jon didn’t seem that mad. I don’t think he’s going to let it _go_ , but he’s not mad. We, uh.”

It takes Harvey half a second. "You--Of course you did. Jesus, Eddie, you really are a slut."

“I didn’t say I had sex with him!” Eddie says, looking injured.

"You said _uh_. What the hell else would you mean?" Harvey puts a slight emphasis on _you_. "What'd you do, then? Collaborate? Get the therapy you sorely need?"

“I got therapy,” Eddie says. “And _then_ I had sex with him. But still in his office. He’s _really hot._ ”

"Eddie!" Harvey is exasperated. The last thing he needs is either Jonathan or Eddie complicating the situation. Any situation. Eddie is a good lay and a generally sweet kid who needs backup sometimes. Jonathan is a useful business contact who needs to be fucked sensible every once in a while. This is going to throw everything off.

“Well, I did,” Eddie says, managing to sound matter-of-fact instead of petulant. He sticks the lightbulbs on a shelf in the closet and starts winding an extension cord around his arm. “I’ll be honest, Harvey, I don’t know how you handle him.”

“He just lies there,” Harvey says incredulously. “Sometimes he screams, or hits me, but…Is it the hitting you can’t deal with?” This makes his interactions with Jonathan sound a little bit worse than they actually are.

Eddie stares at him incredulously. “What are you _doing_ to him?” he says. “I was going to say I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re treating him like a sub, but never mind, it’s a worse thing!”

"Don't take it the wrong way," Harvey says. "Besides, you what, held hands? Come on. Don't get offended on his behalf if you just did the same thing."

"Oh, no, I fucked him," Eddie says. "You might want to look into your wording, though, Harv." He shrugs. "I guess if you only screw to calm him down, the details might escape you."

Harvey isn't (always) a details man. "So now is it my turn to take over the jealous boyfriend role? Is that it?"

"Up to you, I guess," says Eddie. He perches on the side of the bed, then hops up again to grab a couple pieces of clothing--is that a bra?--off the floor and stuff them in a drawer. "But I thought you didn't have one."

"I have exactly one," Harvey says, which is nasty. He reminds himself to be Harvey and not the other one. "I mean--I don't know what you're trying to accomplish."

Eddie shrugs. "You have one? Sorry." He keeps his voice calm, but damn, he didn't expect that. "I, uh, I was trying to help."

Harvey, with great effort, summons his kinder instincts. "Eddie. You mean that, huh? You're a sweetheart." Meant as an apology. He'll do better later.

Eddie grins. "Yeah. And like I said, he's really hot."

"I won't argue that point. And what does he think of all this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Does Jonathan know you've made the leap from poisoning him to having a _crush_?" Harvey doesn't think that's inaccurate.

"Haha," Eddie says. "Don't worry, Harv, he won't let me forget. Anyway, it's not a crush. I'm not after anything."

Harvey doesn't think he can understand that kind of relationship. He's certainly never had it. "Is he? Or are you both just enjoying each other's company?"

Eddie laughs. "I don't think Scarecrow is looking to settle down."

"So what the hell?" Harvey demands. "Are you going to do it _again_?"

“Maybe!” Eddie says. “Maybe? I said I’d see him around. He seemed...okay with that.”

"So you calmed him down," Harvey says, trying to figure out the ways in which this is about to go wrong, or already has. "Just like me. And everyone's okay with everything? That sounds too good to last."

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing, Harv,” Eddie says daringly. “Nothing’s fucked up. And I’m pretty sure it wasn’t just like you.”

"A big deal out of nothing," Harvey echoes. "Kid, that's what I told you when you found out about me and Jonathan. Now you're all cool and collected? You're looking for a broken jaw." _Not useful_ he tells himself. _Oh yeah?_ the other half says. Today's going to give him a headache.

“You _are_ jealous, aren’t you?” Eddie says. The Jonathan thing was easy enough to patch up that he’s mad at Harvey for shaking his tentative happiness with the whole situation.

"I’m frustrated," Harvey says. "You have to complicate everything." Jonathan was already complicated, and so was Eddie, he doesn't like to think about combining them. He likes to keep things controlled.

Eddie sighs. “Sorry,” he says. “Sorry, I guess. Was that all?”

"It's not what I really meant to come and say," Harvey admits. "I just wanted to check in and see if you were all right. I just--lost track."

“Well, it happens,” Eddie says. “I don’t have to fuck the boyfriend if it bothers you that much. Do you really think he’s a sub? No, never mind. I’ll see you later, Harvey.”

"Look, I'm not an expert that this stuff," Harvey says, needled, "but what exactly makes a _sub_ , in your book?" He doesn't like reading people wrong. It makes him unmarketable. Besides, reading someone like Jonathan wrong could be completely disastrous.

“Don’t worry about it,” says Eddie. “Whatever you’re doing must be working, right?” He frowns. “Just, he’s totally not.”

"Damn it, Eddie, too clever," Harvey mutters. "Tell me more. Also, he's _not_ my boyfriend. Asshole." _We're grown men_ , some part of him laments. _This is humiliating._

Eddie smiles briefly, to show that Harvey’s solved that one for him with way too little resistance. He says, “I’m just telling you, he might like it rough and he might like getting fucked, but he likes it because he’s the one in charge of everything.” If Harvey doesn’t know that, Jonathan must be playing him like a harp--that is, _beautifully._

"I don't like that," Harvey says. He missed it. Missed it completely. He was too busy seeing Jonathan as a mess that needed to be cleaned up. "Maybe I will keep you around, to figure out my mysteries for me." No, this just isn't going to be a _nice_ day. Oh well.

“Charming,” Eddie says. “Well, I’m happy to help.” He’s not, actually. If Jon goes to Harvey to get a little grounding, he knows how to get what he wants out of him. But Harvey obviously didn’t know that, and no part of Harvey likes feeling stupid or used. Eddie doesn’t want to be the reason Jonathan looks for help and finds Harvey Dent’s pride getting revenge on him instead.

"Yeah, you're always useful. In some way." Harvey gives up; bad day, not gonna get better. "Nice bra, by the way."

Eddie closes off, even though he knows better. “Yeah, belongs to some girl whose name I don’t know who I was totally fucking, like the total slut I am. I should really give it back but I lost her number, and anyway it’s so much more satisfying to leave it lying around in case someone wants to make potshots about my gender.”

Harvey laughs. He can't help it. "You make it so _easy_. Easy Eddie." He was going to leave. Now there's no chance in hell he's leaving. Eddie looks too vulnerable and defiant.

“I guess so,” Eddie says. Somewhere in there the switch flipped, and as much as Eddie likes Harvey, he’s not an _idiot._ He tries to think how he can finagle this so Harvey doesn’t do something he’ll regret in a better moment. “Want to fuck?”

"Why not?" Harvey says. "I don't have anything better to do." He grabs Eddie by the front of his shirt and hauls him into a kiss that's mostly teeth. He breaks it quickly and shoves Eddie away, hard. Eddie stumbles back against his bed, breathing hard, keeping his eyes steady on Harvey. 

"Think I'm gonna hurt ya?" Harvey snarls. "You're right, kid, I am." Not as much as he'd hurt Jonathan. He isn't stupid, just angry. He backhands Eddie, probably a little harder than Eddie would like. Eddie makes a pained sound and sits hard on the edge of the bed, supporting himself with one hand.

_That’s all right,_ he says to Harvey, but not out loud. He doesn’t have to make all the bad choices, even if he’s prone to making a lot of them.

Harvey grabs Eddie by the shoulders, pushes him down on the bed, and shoves his fingers in Eddie's mouth. "Suck." He's given Eddie the bad hand.

Eddie makes an agreeable noise and sucks, straining to lift his head against the weight of Harvey's hand.

"So good," Harvey says like he's surprised. His voice has gone gravelly like it does when he's either turned on or angry.

Eddie swallows a reply and rolls his eyes back and breathes heavy so Harvey has to feel the movement of his chest.

Harvey laughs and gives Eddie a little shake. "It always surprises me, what you can take."

"I sleep with you," Eddie says over his fingers.

"I guess what I really mean is you're never as sensitive as I expect." Harvey takes his hand away and yanks down Eddie's pajamas, just to have him naked and vulnerable as soon as possible.

Eddie moans and kicks and thinks about how he's a prey animal and it's going to fuck him over eventually.

"Good boy," Harvey says, raking his nails across Eddie's stomach. "Good girl. Good little _bitch_." He punctuates this with another blow across Eddie's cheek.

_Yeah_ , Eddie thinks, _like that._ But bad idea or not, Harvey turns Eddie on. He goes slack as soon as Harvey's first connects, and he's so, so hard. Bad day to be aware of that, so he thinks the word _wet_ with all the strength he has to think at all.

Harvey spreads Eddie's legs and slaps his cock, then pauses. "I'll touch you somewhere else."

Eddie almost tells him it's fine and then decides he isn't that into pointless martyrdom right now. "Anywhere," he says. "Sure, yes."

Harvey smiles crookedly. "Good." He spits on his forefinger, then hoists Eddie hips up to push it inside.

Eddie cries out and gasps, "I don't need a lot of foreplay, 'kay?" No matter what mood Harvey's in, that'll probably get Eddie what he wants.

"Good," Harvey says through his teeth. "Then take my dick, honey."

Eddie relaxes by force of will. Jonathan, Eddie now knows, makes a lot more noise. That though is so unexpectedly hot that Eddie's ass tightens up around Harvey's cock and it gets uncomfortable for a couple of seconds.

Harvey leans over to laugh in Eddie's ear. "Guess you really need it today. Gonna use you for all I can squeeze out of you."

Eddie moans, eyes rolling shut. "Fuck, Harvey."

"How could you think I'd throw you over for Jonathan?" Harvey demands, slamming in and out. "You give me this."

"It's just _sex_ , Harv," Eddie says on the beat. "What doesn't he give?"

"Is it just sex? Is it a business transaction?" He twists Eddie's nipple between his fingers. 

Eddie bites down hard and ignores the sting. This is mean as well as risky, but it's so tempting. "Isn't it?" Eddie says. "You know I'm--giving it to--plenty of other people." _What's so sacred about us?_ is the question. Harvey's right--he’s never said they are.

Harvey doesn't stop, but his hand on Eddie's chest stills. Then he says, "Yeah? And any of them like you as much as I do?"

"Hard to say," Eddie says. It could mean several things.

"How _many_ people have had you?" Harvey asks, punctuating it with his hips. "How many still do?"

Eddie wriggles, suddenly unhappy. "It doesn't matter. Why does it matter?"

"Because I care," Harvey snaps. "I worry. And yes, I get a little jealous."

_Oh,_ Eddie thinks. _Thank Christ._ It's easy to relax again. Eddie wraps both arms around Harvey. "But you didn't tell me. What do I give you?"

Harvey's mouth twists. "Try a partner in crime. Fucking you is like a conversation. With someone smarter than me." He leans down over Eddie, holding him and fucking him deeper.

"What about Jon?" Eddie manages, vision sparking.

"Jonathan and I weren't friends first."

"Ahhhh," Eddie says, satisfied. Maybe now it will be easier to pay attention to what Harvey's doing.

Harvey smooths Eddie's hair and kisses him, both actions rough enough to be painful. "So pretty and pleased with yourself," he mutters into Eddie's mouth.

“Yessir I am,” Eddie mutters back.

Harvey growls and bites down on Eddie's lip, fucking him deep and hard. "So good, with your tight little hole. Gonna come for me?"

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Yeah, yeah, yes-- _ahhh.”_ Eddie comes, thrashing, making a mess out of both of them, one arm clamped against the mattress, the other across Eddie’s face. Eddie feels about ready to pass out, and Harvey’s still going hard.

" _Jesus_ ," Harvey pants. "You look so gorgeous when you do that." He grabs Eddie's hips. "Want it inside?" Dimly, he realizes he must have flipped back to the person who cares about Eddie's opinion on things like that.

“Please,” Eddie says, limp and dizzy and almost crying,“ _please.”_

Harvey comes so hard his knees buckle, and he bears down on Eddie with his full weight for a moment before rolling off and letting him breathe. "You good?" he asks. "Not hurt?" In whatever sense.

“No!” Eddie laughs, a little embarrassing bubble of sound. “God, no. I’m fine, Harv.”

"I figured," Harvey says. He clears his throat. "C'mere." He scoops Eddie up against him with one arm. He was already going to have to change his suit.

“Drycleaning,” Eddie says anyway, aggrieved, but wraps a comfortable arm around Harvey and doesn’t show any inclination to let him up. “Are you getting cuddly to lure me away from Jonathan?”

"No, just in the mood," Harvey says honestly. "I don't care what you do with Jonathan, as long as you're not trying to play him and he's not trying to play you. That could get messy. But if you want to fuck, I won't stop you."

“Hey, that’s nice,” Eddie says. “I don’t think he’s playing anything, for what it’s worth.”

"No, neither do I." Harvey adjusts Eddie against him more comfortably. "Normally I'd disagree, but he hasn't been in much of a state to plan that far. So he must just--" Harvey shrugs. He must just want Eddie? 

“I don’t know,” Eddie says, rolling against Harvey harmlessly. “Ask him yourself.”

"Obviously," Harvey says. "After a shower and a new suit." He kisses the side of Eddie's head.

“Oh, we’re never all getting in the same room at the same time, are we?” Eddie says. “You know, I don’t have to have sex with him if you don’t want that. Even if he’s hot and smart and incredibly fun to fuck.” Eddie peers up at Harvey.

Harvey stops short. He hadn't actually thought of getting all three of them together. Probably because it sounded like a bad idea. "Huh," he says. "Okay. Tell you what. I'll go home and tomorrow I'll give him a call. You come over tomorrow morning. And no, I don't give a shit if you fuck him or not. As long as it doesn't change--this." Harvey wouldn't say that to anyone but Eddie. Eddie is shrewd and quick to pounce, but he won't use Harvey's feelings against him.

“Unlikely,” Eddie says. “You might have a lousy temper, but you know you’re my best friend, don’t you?”

"I always said you had terrible luck," Harvey says, but he can't brush it off with a joke. "Yeah. I do know that."

“Then you can relax, can’t you?” Eddie says certainly. “I like the plan. You know, he really is completely nuts.”

"I know," Harvey says fervently. He remembers Jonathan writhing and twitching and fixing him with that stare, and that was on a good day. "Leave it be, though. That's just how it is. It's how we all are." He never trusts sensitive Eddie to remember that, although he probably should.

“I’m just saying,” Eddie says. “I don’t know if this will exactly end in a loving three-way marriage. Uh--not because he’s crazy, I guess. That’s not...nice to say.”

Harvey stares at him. "Well, yeah, Eddie. Of course it's not going to end that way. That doesn’t mean we can’t have a conversation."

Eddie laughs. “Sorry. It’s just weird that you’re talking about talking it out at all. Family discussion time, et cetera.”

Harvey sighs. "Yeah. Weird. I just--came on a little strong earlier. I mean, I was kind of an asshole. Trying to make up for it." Five minutes from now, who knows? He's already thinking about kicking Eddie's ass.

Eddie always knows, though. He sits up and says, “Tomorrow at nine? I can be there tomorrow at nine.”

"Deal," Harvey says. "Don't be late." He gives Eddie a firm pat on the leg and takes off.

~

Jonathan will never get anything done. He thinks for a fleeting moment that Harvey might be here for business, and that they can carry on as usual--but Harvey’s expression says something else, something that Jonathan truly does not want to hear.

“Mr. Dent,” he says politely.

"Sure," Harvey growls. "Or whatever." He glances at his watch. "Look, Jonathan, I'm glad you and Eddie patched things up, because that makes everything easier for me. I just hope it _stays_ easy."

“You know I don’t like conflict,” Jonathan says demurely. “What can I make easy for you today?”

"We'll see, if Eddie ever shows up," Harvey says. "I know about your little get-together. I don't want to complicate business with _feelings_ , but you know how Eddie is…"

Jonathan tucks a file into the open drawer, shuts it, and sits. No, no, no. He doesn’t like that either. 

“What are you going to _do_ to me?” he asks.

"I'm not here to attack you, or I would have pulled a gun by now," Harvey says. "I just want to know what the _hell_ is going on. I know what _he_ was thinking. But you? I never know. Apparently. I know your priorities are a little off, but do you really jump into bed with someone who's just poisoned you? Oh, who am I kidding. Of course you do."

“Facilitating productive emotion is my job,” Jonathan says. “Everyone knows the easiest way to facilitate Eddie’s emotions is through sex. I didn’t want to be poisoned _again._ And I think he had a nice enough time.”

"Oh," Harvey says, deflating a little. "That's it? That makes sense. It matches how I deal with Eddie. It matches how you deal with everyone else. But I'm not sure Eddie interpreted it that way."

“I was afraid of that,” Jonathan says, a little wild-eyed. “I’m always afraid of that. I’m not a family man. You aren’t going to put me in a _home,_ are you, Harvey?”

Harvey snorts. " _I'm_ not going to put you anywhere. And I don't think Eddie wants to propose marriage. I'm just saying he thought it was fun for you. Maybe not a _play_."

Jonathan considers. “I must have forgiven him because I let him fuck me?”

Harvey shrugs. "He's sentimental. Sure. He probably thinks you've moved past it. Feel free to correct him."

“Oh, no!” Jonathan says. “That was my intention. In that case, yes, I’m completely satisfied, and that really comes down to the same thing as _having fun,_ doesn’t it? Unless you’re worried that I’m going to get back for it later. Or maybe you think this _is_ the getting back? Eddie never likes to feel like the villain. ”

"Well, he's going to have to," Harvey says huffily. "He messed up and he knows it. Irritating little bitch. But now he thinks you're fuckbuddies or something, I don't know. Just wanted to clear that up before it blows up on _me_."

“What do you mean, if Eddie shows up?” Jonathan says, look suddenly shrewd. That happens sometimes when he’s not quite with it, and his cleverness feels much more clever than it really is.

"I thought we should all get things clear," Harvey says. "All three of us. So nothing impedes business."

Jonathan relaxes. “I prefer you to make an appointment,” he says. “No walk-ins. But since you’re friends of the family--” He stops, glancing up at nothing, and seems to backpedal. “If I have to,” he says.

Harvey really _looks_ at him. "How're you feeling, Jon? Lately?"

“A little low,” Jonathan admits. “Busy few weeks. Never mind Eddie; I completely understand. But the Bat has been trouble.” He meets Harvey’s eyes, wounded and distant. “He tried to get me to close my practice! _Better off at Arkham,_ really? Better off how? I don’t think Batman understands what a difficult workplace Arkham can be.”

Harvey laughs. "That's putting it mildly. Watch your step or you'll be a patient. If you want a hand with him, we're good. It's not like I have anything better to do." Batman's usually at the top of the list, anyway.

Jonathan frowns. “You don’t think he _meant_ as a patient, do you? That’s rude.”

"Yeah, Jon, I think probably." Harvey pats the desk. "The way you see things and the way--Batman, among others, sees them are sometimes pretty different."

Before he can say anything else, Eddie breezes in, now spectacularly late, and not looking sorry about it. "Hi," he says, waving at both of them.

“Let’s ask Eddie,” Jonathan says. “Eddie, what do you think of the Batman as a career advisor?”

"Uh," Eddie says. "Bad, probably? Because he doesn't have a career? Was he bothering you?"

"You're late," Harvey mutters, but Eddie ignores him.

“Not to worry,” Jonathan says. He springs up and offers his chair to Eddie. “Here, have a seat. Harvey, you look like a tree growing in my office. Sit somewhere.” He perches on his desk and gestures at them.

There are plenty of other places to sit than Jonathan’s chair. “Wouldn’t you rather,” Eddie starts, and Jonathan says, “ _No,”_ in a way that makes Eddie sit down and shut up. Harvey takes the couch, managing to look even more uncomfortable than Eddie.

"So," Eddie says once he's settled, "This was more Harvey's idea than mine. I think everything's squared away."

“No,” Jonathan says again.

“No?” Eddie says tentatively.

“I really think this is between you two,” Jonathan says. “You don’t acknowledge your relationship as such, do you? As a relationship?”

"Harvey is blushing now," Eddie says without looking. "I don't know what you'd call it, exactly. Friendship, I believe." He grins at Harvey.

"Shut up," Harvey snaps. "This isn't about us. It's about you two and whether you're going to go off on each other."

“Now, Harvey, I think that’s a deflection,” Jonathan says kindly. “Let’s come back to your feelings for Eddie. What makes you feel that Eddie and I would _go off_ on each other?”

"This isn't a therapy session," Harvey starts, he catches Eddie's eye and stops. " _Fine_. I think you will because Eddie just locked you in an elevator, and one fuck won't resolve anything, even if Eddie thinks you had a bonding moment."

Jonathan’s head whips around to Eddie. “Do you think I’m going to go off on you, Eddie?” he says. “Assuming I’m the kind of person who does that kind of thing?”

"Uh," Eddie says. He looks unsure for the first time since he waltzed in. "I thought we were kind of…good. Are we not good?"

"You tried to kill him and he's even crazier than I am," Harvey snaps.

“Totally valid point,” Jonathan says calmly. “I might do anything. Table that. Are _you_ going to go off on _me_? As I see it, _you_ might do anything. I don’t know what’s yours and what isn’t when you won’t even put your name on things. Yet my interactions with Harvey caused you severe distress. With violent consequences, I would add. How can we be a little safer?”

Eddie squirms in Jonathan's chair. Jonathan in therapist mode is always disconcerting. "Okay, granted, I know there aren't really rules, but--"

“I have a suggestion,” Jonathan says, waving his finger. “Especially since it seems very likely that Harvey and I will continue to share a business relationship--the two of you need to _define_ what you are to each other.”

"No!" Eddie says.

Harvey looks at him sidelong, because of the two of them, he didn't expect Eddie to say it first. "Whatever it is, it's not _exclusive._ It never has been."

"Which part?" Eddie mutters, quietly enough to be ignored.

“I don’t care,” Jonathan says to Harvey. “No one cares. But you should agree on what you are between each other, or I suspect there will be more _misunderstandings.”_

Eddie bites his lip. "Okay. Yeah. It's not like I disagree." He glances at Harvey. "You know how _I_ think of it, Harv."

"Do I?" Harvey demands. "It's a partnership. I protect you. That's the deal."

“Earlier you said…”

“I know what I said!” Harvey barks.

“I don’t think either of you could deny there’s a strong emotional component,” Jonathan mutters coaxingly, laying one arm across the other and biting his pinky.

Eddie pulls his feet up under him. "Yeah. No shit. I love him. Obviously." He doesn't look at Harvey.

“ _Excellent_ breakthrough!” Jonathan says, beaming. “Harvey?”

"This isn't really a public conversation," Harvey grouses. "But I--of course I love the little asshole. Like you'd love a pet. Or a person."

“Probably not like I’d love a person,” Jonathan observes. “But never mind. This is excellent. Excellent. Very good. You two should talk about that. You should go talk about that right now. Someday Eddie might learn to actually kill people and I would _love_ to talk about whether I’m that people. Let me know! All right! Goodbye!”

"This isn't--" Eddie starts, but Harvey holds up his hand. Once Jonathan's made up his mind, nothing can change it without some collateral damage. Eddie shuts up and follows Harvey out, glancing back at Jonathan as he goes.

~

Harvey strides out of the building, not certain where to go. He doesn’t _want_ to do what Jonathan says, but he has a point. And now Harvey has a problem, where if he doesn’t talk about it (he doesn’t want to talk about it), it’ll only get worse. Maybe Eddie will make a break for it and give him a reprieve--but no, Eddie is right behind him, looking both sheepish and dogged.

"Like a pet?" Eddie says after a second. "Are you so embarrassed by the fact that you have some kind of genuine affection for me that _that_ came out of your mouth?"

Harvey wheels around. “I take care of you!” he says. “Besides. I said _person._ ”

"Yeah, _afterwards_." Eddie stops in the middle of the sidewalk and crosses his arms. "Why can't we just say you're my boyfriend and we both sometimes need to fuck people on the side for business? That's basically the truth, it's just filling in the blanks."

Harvey is dumbfounded for a minute. “Well--I--what do I call _you?”_ he demands, like that’s the one giant obstacle standing in his way.

Eddie wraps his arms around himself and looks at the sky. "I don't know. Guess Jonathan doesn't have the solution for that. Boyfriend, I guess. Sure."

“You can change it,” Harvey says gruffly. He feels stupid, which he always hates. Still. He feels steady enough.

Eddie nods, looking uncertain. "Something that _means_ that, anyway. Just so everyone's clear. Then anyone who isn't sure will know that going in, and we'll have a backdoor for things like Jonathan. Easy."

“ _Things like Jonathan,”_ Harvey repeats, and shakes his head. “No matter what you call it, you can’t go off on a tear any time you don’t like my choices. Since it was Jon this time, I’m not happy. If it had been anyone else, they might have killed you. And it’s not ever good for business. You get me?”

"I get you," Eddie says. "I knew it was a mistake as soon as I did it, as usual. It won't happen again."

“Have you apologized in a way that isn’t fucking him ‘til you feel good about yourself?” Harvey asks.

Eddie opens and shuts his mouth. Then he says, "No. I'm sorry, I'm not very good at being upfront. I gave him a hat."

Harvey laughs. “Of course. All right. Maybe tomorrow you can apologize to him, _without fucking him._ Jesus Christ.” He chews on his thoughts. “I’ll try the whole boyfriend thing, as long as we’re playing by our rules. Everyone calls you that anyway.” Or other things. But they’re less nice. Harvey’s feeling nice.

Eddie nods. "Check. To all of that. I think I can even muster an apology. After all, he's been a lot more helpful than he needed to be."

Harvey frowns. “He likes you.”

"I like him," Eddie says. "I mean, I guess I do. And I _am_ sorry. He's just hard to apologize to. He gets distracted. But hey, if you're making an effort, I have to make one, too."

Harvey makes a growlish noise. “That’s why I only ever fuck him. I don’t get all soft, like you.” He shrugs. “But you like making friends with all kinds of things, so go ahead and try, if you want. You can _tell_ that he likes you?”

"No," Eddie says calmly, "I assumed you made that up to make me feel better. I don't think he does."

"Oh," says Harvey awkwardly. "Eddie, can we take this off the street?"

"You don't like public fights about our personal life?" It's unclear if that's sarcasm. "Fine, your place?"

"Yes," Harvey says. "That would be best."

Eddie shivers a little and they set off toward Harvey's place, Eddie keeping his mouth shut. Harvey catches them a cab a few blocks later. The cabbie might regret it, but he's not complaining. And Harvey tips well, sometimes.

"In," he says to Eddie at the door to his apartment, once he's sure no one's lying in wait.

Eddie makes a very small sound and obeys. Once in, he spins to look at Harvey. "Anyway. So."

Harvey sighs. "I could kill Jon myself for this," he says. "But I won't. He likes you all right, or he wouldn't be doing things this way. Little nutcase."

"I think it's _nice_ ," Eddie says, "how his mind works. Complicated, but direct."

"Whatever," Harvey says. "Eddie. Are you angry?"

"I don't know," Eddie says. There's a dangerous undercurrent in his voice. "Angry that it took therapy from Jonathan Crane to get to _boyfriends?_ " He says the last word with great disdain. "That's a thing I could be angry about."

Harvey clears his throat. "I didn't know it mattered," he says.

"Are you stupid?" Eddie demands. "I know I'm technically a genius, so it can get confusing."

Harvey stares at Eddie and then laughs. "Maybe I am stupid. Are you too angry to stick with it? I suppose I’ve had relationships go worse."

"No," Eddie says without pausing to consider. "Let's be boyfriends. Or whatever."

"Hmm," Harvey says. "Then shut up about Jonathan Crane for a minute." He reaches out and pulls Eddie towards him by the chin.

Eddie gasps and goes to Harvey without complaint. He still looks a little wary, but that's normal.

"Good Eddie," Harvey growls. He bends down and kisses Eddie hard, until he can feel Eddie start to struggle.

Eddie makes a noise close to a shout into Harvey's mouth. His fingers wind around Harvey's lapels.

"Good," Harvey says. "Very good. Come here." He takes Eddie by the arms and pulls him futher into the house. "Upstairs," he says.

"Whatever you say," Eddie says lightly, but he's panting. He gets upstairs fast, still looking around like he expects a trap or a change of Harvey's mood.

For which Harvey can't blame him. And that is one of the reasons Harvey doesn't do relationships. The most romantic thing he can say is "I've never tried to kill you." He catches Eddie by the scuff of his shirt and slings him through the bedroom door.

Eddie stumbles and looks pleased about it. At least he's too resilient to be badly hurt without some effort. "God, Harvey," he says.

"Get down," Harvey growls, and pulls Eddie over to the bed by the hair. Not too rough. This is Harvey doing favors.

"Yes, sir." Eddie only ever says that as a joke. It's an attractive joke--still. Harvey shoves Eddie down so his face bounces against the bed. He watches, appreciatively, as Eddie's feet slither uselessly against the floor.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Eddie says, muffled. His fingers scrabble against the sheets and he kicks out at nothing.

"Don't get caught up on what you can't have," Harvey growls, and uses his free hand to reach under Eddie and unfasten his pants.

"Advice I can't follow," Eddie says ruefully. "Nn, oh God."

"Good--" Harvey starts, and then finds himself annoyingly stymied by terminology and Eddie's _complications._ "Dog," he settles on. Vicious yank gets Eddie naked down to the knees. Harvey runs a finger up his ass, pushing him wide. Of course he fucking loves Eddie. Eddie is never the problem. At least not the main one.

"Yes," Eddie gasps. "Yes yes yesyesyes, yes to all-of-it-oh- _please_."

Harvey lets go of Eddie's hair, hauls him up onto the bed on his back. "You're too gorgeous like this," he says. "No wonder you need me." He drags his palm down Eddie's side and hikes his legs up to pull of his pants.

"Fucking--" Whatever Eddie says next is completely incoherent. It's almost impossible to make him lose his words, which makes it especially satisfying. "C'mon, Harv, God, you," he says, flailing against Harvey.

Harvey smiles terrifyingly and runs an ugly finger down Eddie's stomach. "Take that," he says, and works it in with a harsh twist.

Eddie screams. " _Harvey._ " He calls both halves Harvey, and doesn't really distinguish in any other way, either. "My hero," he adds, squirming.

“That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard,” Harvey growls. “Relax or I’ll stop. Go limp, little puppy.”

Eddie whine-growls in the back of his throat and obeys, eyes fluttering shut. He hums out a pleased noise, the anxiety smoothing out of his face.

“There we are,” Harvey says. He works his fingers until Eddie is loose, then pushes his knee up towards his chest. “Look how hard you get for me,” he says. He fumbles with his own pants, pulls his fingers out, pulls his pants down.

Eddie makes a little questioning sound. "My boyfriend," he says.

Harvey sighs and strokes Eddie’s cheek. Harvey doesn’t waste time feeling bad for much, but he could almost be regretful that Harvey is Eddie’s best shot. “Yes,” he says. “Now I’m going to fuck you. Don’t go and panic.”

"I don't panic," Eddie says doggedly.

“I know you don’t,” says Harvey. “Good pup.” He hoists Eddie’s hips up and goes in hard.

Eddie sobs out a plea. He always gets off half on words and half on how Harvey's touching him. He clenches around Harvey's dick, then relaxes with a visible effort.

“Go as tight as you want, sweetheart,” Harvey says. He wraps his hands like vises around Eddie’s arms and feels Eddie writhing as Harvey bears down on him. “I like a little struggle out of you.” 

Eddie's whole body bucks as he fights. When he wants to, he can fight almost as hard as if he meant it. "God, don't hurt me--" He trails off into a little chuckle.

“ _Eddie,”_ Harvey says through his teeth. He slips an arm under him to pull him in close, and splays his hand on Eddie’s face. “Get your hand on your cock, bitch.”

Eddie cries out and half bites Harvey, then clearly thinks better of it. He starts jerking himself off, his hand fast and competent.

“That’s right,” Harvey mutters, “that’s right, you pretty little dog.” He’s breathing hard, fucking Eddie with jerking hips that he can’t control. “My pretty little _boyfriend._ ”

"Y-yeah," Eddie says, and he's crying, a little, as he bites his lip and comes, shaking all over. Harvey comes after him, tense and rough, holding Eddie so tight his ribs must hurt. He relaxes in a heavy heap on top of Eddie and lies there for a few seconds before he pulls out and props himself up.

“What you wanted?” he asks. 

"You usually are," Eddie says. He's flushed and shaky, but his voice is casual. "Thanks, Harv. I think we're on the same page."

“Hm,” says Harvey, and rolls onto his back. “Good. We should be.” _Don’t think about Jonathan,_ he thinks. _Don’t think about Jonathan._ Not yet. He feels no interest at all in any more long, off-kilter conversations about everyone’s feelings.

Eddie curls up to him, persistent as ever. "He's so smart," he says, as if reading Harvey's mind. "Anyway, I'm gonna sleep in your bed."

“Clean yourself up first,” Harvey says.

Eddie groans, but he rolls out of bed. "Gonna sleep in your shower, then. Yeah. Thanks."

Harvey laughs and pulls a blanket over himself, but he makes room next to him once Eddie’s in the shower.

~

"Rise and shine, honeycomb," Eddie says. He knows Harvey always wakes up early, so he wakes up even earlier on purpose. Harvey isn't going to have one waking second where he thinks he's gotten away with something.

Harvey's eyes snap open, although he's lying completely still. "Eddie," he says. "What do you want?" It's hard to say straight off if he's annoyed at being caught asleep or has woken up on the wrong side of his face.

"We're square and clear," Eddie says, "but what about Jon? You know I can't let a loose end dangle."

"What about Jon?" Harvey growls.

"What about what _he_ wants?" Eddie presses. Harvey was so nice last night. He should have known to expect backlash.

"He wants to be left alone," Harvey says. "I can relate."

Eddie sits up, moves out of reach, and says, "But beyond that? He likes me. You said so. And he likes sex with you. So. So?"

"What...exactly...do you want?" Harvey says again. When Eddie doesn't immediately answer, Harvey says, "I’m barely going to name it anything with _you_. I’m not going any further than that." He makes an awful face.

"You woke up on the wrong side of...you," Eddie says.

Harvey grunts and gets up, noticing he's naked late enough that Eddie gets a full view first. " _God dammit,_ Eddie," he says. "Tell me what you want or I won't fuck you for a month."

In a different situation, Eddie would turn sullen and petulant. Here, it's more useful to go sharp and say, "I'd survive it. I'm going to apologize to Jon. Then I'll let him tell you what both of us want."

"Does that mean I'm coming with you on this little visit?" Harvey asks. "What, are you planning on bringing him breakfast in bed?"

"Great idea!" Eddie says, springing out of bed. "I suppose you can come. Oh, but we need an appointment." No sense making amends if they're going to be sloppy about it.

"At least you've learned something," Harvey says. "I'm taking a shower."

Eddie nods. "I'll call Jon." 

He calls from Harvey's landline, in case Jonathan is screening for Eddie. 

"Harvey," Jon says. He probably thinks he sounds smooth, but no. "Have you dealt with your issues yet?"

"Hi!" Eddie says. "Hi, no, it's me. And yes, he has. Kind of. We'd like an appointment, please. Both of us."

"What are you talking about?" Jon says. "You're not patients. Do you want something?"

"You drive me nuts," Eddie says cheerily. And he accuses Harvey of having _days_. "Can we come see you? Maybe your place?" He has the address, but he's never been.

"All right," Jon says. "Bring paper plates."

"Great!" Eddie says. "See you in an hour."

"Hmm," says Jon and hangs up.

Harvey takes long showers, but he comes out eventually. "Well?" he says.

"Lucid and wants breakfast," Eddie says. "And paper plates."

"Oh good," says Harvey. "You're dressed? Fine. Let's go."

~

Jonathan has the indecency to live somewhere as decent as a condo, although Eddie has no idea who would want to sell him one. It’s on a decent street in the suburbs and it’s tan and it looks nothing like where Eddie lives. Jon opens the door a few seconds after they ring the doorbell. 

“There you are,” he observes. “Did you bring paper plates or not?”

Eddie beams at him. "Of course we did. Paper plates and Harvey's bad mood. Let us in so I can apologize." He peers over Jonathan's shoulder. "I don't understand your house at all."

“You don’t like it?” Jonathan asks. He lets them in. Inside there are off-white carpets and interesting but tasteful art prints. He has a kitchen table. What’s _happening?_

"Did you steal this house while somebody was out of town?" Eddie asks. "Or--ugh, no, don't tell me. I wanted to say sorry. For rudely trying to murder you and rudely fucking you afterwards."

Behind him, Harvey makes a disbelieving groan.

Jonathan raises his eyebrows. “I bought the house. I can’t have a house? We can’t all be young, Eddie. Young and living in squalor. It’s a nice look for your twenties, but.” He smiles. “You were saying?”

Eddie stares at him. "Are you not in your twenties?" It's not the point he means to argue.

“Did I say that?” Jonathan asks. “Well, I am a doctor, you know. I’ve been a doctor for years. Don’t you remember? You came and saw me in Arkham, didn’t you? Harvey, you remember, don’t you?”

“I wasn’t there,” Harvey says, frowning. “And if I were you, I wouldn’t remind anyone.”

Eddie frowns. "I might take back that apology, actually." He remembers perfectly well how he and Jonathan met. Before Jonathan was _crazy_. Except it wasn't. It was just before everyone _knew_. He clears his throat, shakes it off, and says, "No, I meant it, though. I feel bad. And thanks for yesterday."

“Oh good,” Jonathan says. “Good, good. Couples counseling work for you two? Do you want to sit? There’s a couch. I didn’t kill anyone to get it, it’s just a couch. Do you like breakfast, in fact?” He seems nervous, which shouldn’t surprise Eddie.

Eddie relents. "Yes, please," he says. As part of his apology, he's going to put Jonathan at his ease. As much as that's a thing that's possible.

They can see once they’re in the room--table ahead of them, sofa to the left--that the small kitchen, to the right, is littered with broken china. Some of it has gotten ground into the carpet. Jonathan starts waving a hand at them before they can say anything, but doesn’t follow up with any explanation. He opens the oven and there’s a quiche inside. Eddie decides that the quiche, somehow, is the weirdest part.

"Um," Eddie says. Instead of standing there and making everything _more_ awkward, he quickly goes to sit on the sofa.

"Bad night?" Harvey asks Jonathan. "Or did one of your victims get away? I mean, patients."

“Did you bring enough plates for everybody?” Jonathan asks severely.

"Ah," Harvey says.

"Of course." Eddie pulls the pack of paper plates out of his messenger bag. "No fear toxin in that quiche, right?"

“Pig,” says Jonathan, which Eddie thinks is an insult until Jonathan adds, “Bacon. And a lot of cheese. You’re not a vegetarian, are you, Eddie? You spend a lot of time with Ivy. Harvey likes a pound of flesh, I think.”

Eddie can tell this is a different Harvey from yesterday, because instead of getting uncomfortable, he gets annoyed. "Shut up," he snaps.

"Meat's okay," Eddie says, even though he isn't eating it right now. "That's so sweet. Thank you." Maybe if Harvey doesn't try to ruin everything, this apology will achieve the desired effect. Which is--still under question.

But Jonathan’s got his eye on Harvey. He puts his quiche down on the coffee table in front of them and stares at him like he’s never seen anything less frightening. “Would you like a fork, Harvey?” he says, enunciating so sharply that it sounds like the tines of one plinking against something hard.

Harvey narrows his eyes, but all he says is, "Yeah. Sure."

“That’s unfortunate,” Jonathan says, suddenly sounding perfectly normal and a little baffled. “I’m not sure I have any.”

"No forks?" Harvey demands. "What the hell happened to them, did you throw them out the window?"

"Stop," Eddie demands. "It doesn't matter. We don't need forks, Jon." He gives Jonathan a little smile. That's an apology, too.

“Of course you do,” Jonathan says, frowning and looking over his shoulder. “Don’t be silly.” He goes back to the kitchen and starts digging through the drawers, and then through the sink. “Are you sorry, Harvey? Or is this a bad time for you?”

Eddie sees Harvey make a visible effort. When that falls flat, he reaches into his pocket and takes out the coin. Good, at least that means he's taking this seriously. Eddie watches. When the coin lands clean side up, he lets out a breath.

Harvey looks up at Jonathan. "Yeah," he says. His voice is a little less rough. "I'm sorry. And I'll buy you some new china later."

Jonathan’s hand emerges from the sink with several dirty forks. “That’s very kind. Are you fixed? Between you.”

Eddie waits to see if Harvey will say it.

Harvey clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. Boyfriend and--"

"We're settled," Eddie shrugs. "But not exclusive."

“Finally,” Jonathan says. He washes the forks off--it is really unnerving to watch him do _normal things._ “There are no real plates,” he says. It’s like being in a room with a giant moth. But not Killer Moth. Just a giant moth, who might just sit there being soft and a little weird, or might fly at you in ten different directions, and maybe it’s venomous, you really don’t know.

"I don't care," Eddie says, a hint of a plea creeping into his voice. Now he really is very sorry. "Come and sit down." 

"Before it gets cold," Harvey adds firmly, and Eddie feels a little better.

Jonathan drags over a kitchen chair, forks held out in front of him. He sits down across from them.

“So,” he says, forks in hand. “You _are_ going to kill me or you _aren’t_ going to kill me.”

"I didn't even really want to kill you before," Eddie says. "And I definitely don't now. Especially since you made us breakfast. Harv?"

"Don’t be an idiot," Harvey says. "I don't want to kill you either. I just want to keep doing business. Like we have been." He gives Eddie an aggrieved look, like it's all Eddie's fault things got complicated.

“Lovely,” Jonathan says, and stabs all three forks into the quiche. His hand is shaking.

"Jon," Eddie says gently. "Jon, hey, it's okay. This isn't a bad situation." He doesn't know what's helpful to say to Jonathan. Not yet. So he shoots for what's helpful for him in situations like this.

Jonathan goes very still, but his eyes wander over to Eddie. “Don’t worry,” he says. “The food is safe. I made sure.”

"Thanks," Eddie says. He is about to say _I trust you._

"Eddie--" Harvey starts.

"We should fuck," Eddie says in a rush. " _If you want_. We should all fuck. If that appeals to you on any level, Jon."

Jon laughs. “ _Really?”_ he demands, and then, differently, “Really?”

"Of course," Eddie says, trying out the puzzle pieces to see if they fit. Really, this would have been the simplest solution from the start. But he hadn't been clear on all the variables.

Jon considers. “Well, that might be all right,” he says.

“Harv?” Eddie asks.

Harvey has gone back to glowering. “You’d better not be trying to trap me into settling down into some--thing.”

“I don’t think Jon wants that,” Eddie says lightly.

“Nooo,” Jonathan says. “No, no, I don’t want that.”

"See?" Eddie says.

"But you want to sleep with him?" Harvey asks Jon. "With us?"

“Yes,” Jonathan says. “Yes, that’s fine.” _That’s fine_ instead of _I want that._ Because you can never get a straight answer from Jon, really, no matter how you ask.

Eddie picks a different question. "If we didn't, would that be fine? If we all just called it a day and didn't have any sex at all? Would you mind that?"

Jon’s eyes flick to the murdered quiche sitting between them. “It would be a little disappointing.”

_There_. That's solid consent, in Jonathan's language. "Thank God," Eddie says. "And this time I'll be better at doing things you like." None of them knows how to communicate straightforwardly (except Harvey, who doesn't like communicating at all), but Eddie thinks they can at least stumble their way into a good fuck.

Jonathan is looking at Eddie with an amused expression, like he isn’t sure what makes Eddie thinks Jon is a person who _likes_ things. 

“Don’t play dumb,” Harvey growls at him. “You have plenty of opinions. If you were just a walking, talking panic attack, I wouldn’t have anything to do with you.”

Eddie hopes Harvey can appreciate the symmetry of the three of them. With Harvey's bluntness, Eddie's cleverness, and Jonathan's viciously articulate moments between the two, they work.

"Do you have a bed _here_?" Eddie asks.

“In my bedroom,” Jonathan says, and then does nothing.

Harvey growls. “Bring us there, then!” He hauls Jon up by his lapels. “Now!” he barks. “Go!”

Jon makes a little anxious hiccuping laugh and disentangles himself from the chair. He waves his hand at both of them and leads them up the stairs.

Upstairs is completely normal, too, and the bedroom is cozy, bookshelves against the walls, green curtains, green duvet, bedside lamp. It’s creepy. Where exactly does Jon keep _himself_ in all this?

"Have you lived here long?" Eddie asks, pivoting on his heels to check out the whole room. He'd been assuming Jonathan had some kind of low-rent, messy, loud apartment. Like what Eddie has. He really should have guessed.

“A couple of years,” Jonathan says. “Why? Do you need real estate advice? It’s not really my area, but I know a lovely realtor.” He grimaces. “It’s one of the things I like. Is that all right?”

Eddie winces. "Jonathan," he starts.

"Why don't you show Eddie how you like to be _kissed_ , instead?" Harvey suggests grumpily.

Jonathan’s eyes flash. “All right,” he says, and his arm snakes out and he catches Eddie by the collar. Eddie’s pulled so fast into a hard kiss that he thinks _ow_ before he figures out it’s someone’s tooth knocking into his lip.

“Is that it?” Harvey says somewhere behind Jonathan. Jon’s head jerks back, and Eddie sees Harvey’s fingers knotting through his hair. His other arm is caught behind Jonathan’s elbows, forcing his arms back.

“Or is this how you want to be kissed?” Harvey growls.

Eddie smiles at Harvey, but doesn't make any smart remarks. He leans in and kisses Jonathan hard, making sure to bite back. HIs hands graze the front of Jon's shirt, and he grabs on.

Jon makes a throaty noise and fights at both of them, shuddering when Harvey gives him a shake. "How far down do you want to go?" Harvey growls, and he must get an answer out of Jon's noises. He pulls Jon out of Eddie's grip and forces him to his knees, fist still in his hair.

Eddie may be clever, but Harvey's made it his business, literally, to know what Jon wants. Eddie grabs Jon's chin and forces him to look up, digging slightly-too-long nails in.

"Good Eddie," Jon pants. "How are we feeling about the cock today? Maybe you want Harvey to give me his instead."

Eddie's about to get mad, but no. Jonathan on his knees, Jonathan giving orders, that's too attractive. "No, mine," he says. "Harvey's been too stubborn today."

Jon whines, his eyes squeezing shut as Harvey's fist clenches. "All right," he hisses. "I'll just let him fuck me, then?"

"Yes," Eddie says in a choked voice.

"Fair enough," Jon hisses.

"Eddie, get your fucking dick out," Harvey snarls.

Eddie, already half hard, obeys.

"Fuck his mouth," Harvey says. "Come on, slut. Give him what he wants." Jon makes a face that's a little unnerving, but it's not exactly off-putting.

Eddie tilts Jonathan's chin up and pushes his cock into Jon's mouth. Jon's mouth is great. One of the first things Eddie thought when he met Jon, before it got terrifying, was _wow, I'll bet he gives amazing head._ He wasn't wrong.

Jonathan groans messily, eyes rolling back. Harvey shakes him hard, and his teeth jar against Eddie’s dick.

“Suck like you mean it,” Harvey says, and Jon does, loud and tight. Eddie pats Jonathan's cheek and thrusts into his mouth in short, uneven jerks. 

"Oh, that's good," he mutters. He glances up and meets Harvey's eyes. That's good, too. Harvey looks just scary enough that Eddie's knees go a little weak. Or maybe that’s because Jonathan is digging his fingers into Eddie’s knees.

“Jonathan,” Harvey growls. “Put your hands behind your back before I break them.”

Jon gives a maybe-nervous laugh and does what he’s told.

Harvey's threatening voice being used on someone else is--yes. Eddie grinds down and Jon and fucks his mouth, deep enough that maybe he can make him choke a little. Jonathan struggles, hands clamped together behind his back.

“This is how you’re coming,” Harvey tells Eddie, shoving Jon’s head forward so hard he collides with Eddie’s hipbone. Jonathan yelps, and Eddie feels it on his cock.

Eddie groans and locks eyes with Harvey, hand cupping the side of Jon's face almost tenderly as he makes brutal little motions with his hips. Another few seconds of that, and he comes into Jon's mouth, knees actually buckling this time.

He slips out of Jon’s mouth and Jon gasps loudly, and then they’re face to face, and Jon is staring at him with these eyes that are _too there_ , hands still behind his back instead of helping Eddie stay upright.

"Harvey, for fuck's sake, _fuck him_ ," Eddie says. He flashes Jonathan a smile. "You are _good_ , sweetheart." _Take that as you will._

Harvey shoots Eddie a quelling look, then hauls Jonathan up and onto the bed as Jon wipes at his mouth.

“Did you bring protection, Harvey?” Jonathan asks. “It’s very important to use protection.” Never mind that Eddie just came in his mouth.

"I did," Eddie says helpfully. He tosses Harvey a condom. Harvey doesn't always have one on hand when he wakes up in a mood like he did today.

“Someone had a plan,” Jonathan says.

“Take his clothes off,” Harvey growls, hands at his belt.

"Fuck," Eddie mutters. He does, fast but _careful_ , because Jonathan likes his clothes kept neat. "Teamwork," he whispers in Jonathan's ear as he unbuttons his shirt.

“ _Nn,”_ says Jonathan. “Wonderful. Personal progress. Eddie, Eddie?” His voice turns up at the end.

"Jon," Eddie says, keeping his hands on Jonathan to steady him.

Jonathan squeaks. “Naked is naked, isn’t it?” he says. 

"Yeah," Eddie agrees. He doesn't let go. "Hey. Trust me." He doesn't say trust _us_ , because he'd like to be comforting, and one can never quite predict Harvey.

“He wants it,” Harvey says, shoving his pants to the floor. “Keep going.”

Eddie does, but he makes sure he's touching Jonathan the whole time. "If you don't," he tells him, "tell me. And I'll tell Harvey." He directs this at Harvey with an arrogant little head-tilt.

“ _Nn,”_ Jonathan says again, more emphatically.

“Everything,” says Harvey, slipping his shoes off.

"Yessir," Eddie says. He squeezes Jonathan's wrist and finishes undressing him, remembering that for Jonathan, a little bit of fear might be a crucial component.

“Now back off,” Harvey says, folding his shirt over his arm. He shoves it into Eddie’s hands, pushing him back, and climbs on top of Jonathan. 

“Is this what you want, Doctor Crane?” he demands, voice rumbling. “You want someone to rough you up?” Maybe he remembers what Eddie said, that Jon only likes being on the bottom if he’s still the one in charge.

Jonathan wheezes at him and Harvey pins him by the forearms, hip to hip.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard your nice neighbors hear you scream,” Harvey says.

Eddie clutches Harvey's shirt to his chest and swallows hard, unable to look away.

Harvey backhands Jonathan across the face, still pinning him flat. "Scared yet?" He yanks Jonathan's legs apart roughly. "Yeah, I can tell you are." He hits him again.

Jonathan pants, digging all his claws--nails, but, claws--into his tasteful duvet. Eddie thinks he’s trying to keep quiet for the neighbors after all, which is hilarious in a hot, awful way.

"You're gonna get loud," Harvey promises. "With my dick in your ass, trust me, you will." He grabs Eddie's condom off the bedside table and rakes his fingers down Jonathan's side.

Jonathan chokes on a squeal, and Eddie has to sit down. He grabs the chair’s arms and watches, hardly blinking.

"This good?" Harvey asks almost carelessly. His hands are still all over Jon, pausing here and there to slap or pinch or scrape. He rolls the condom on and holds Jon's legs apart, waiting for an answer.

Jon shivers and whimpers. “Yes, you’re good. Very good, Harvey. Nice and easy.” Like that means anything. Eddie wants to jump up and touch him. Harvey doesn't even look at Eddie, but he doesn't need to. Eddie can always tell when Harvey wants him to sit down and shut up. He throttles the chair with his hands instead. 

"Don't you dare cover your mouth," Harvey tells Jon. He spits in his palm, swipes it over his cock, and pushes in. It looks like it hurts, but Eddie thinks the spit was a courtesy.

Jonathan does what he’s told, but he bites his lip hard to cover his screams. He digs at the blankets with his feet, and Eddie can see tears at the edges of his wide, glassy eyes. It’s hot as hell, except Eddie’s afraid Jonathan will bite right through his lip.

“Harv,” he says, breaking the rules. “ _Teeth.”_

"Yeah," Harvey says shortly. " _Hey_." He slaps Jonathan lightly and pushes most of his own fist--the bad one--into Jonathan's mouth. "Bite that, why don't you?" Then he settles back into the rhythm of fucking him.

Jonathan moans and sobs against Harvey’s fist, and Eddie can see it, Harvey getting hotter and Jon getting more desperate. He can see how Harv’s going to go over the edge and leave Jon hanging, and maybe Jon will forgive them but it’s not what Eddie is trying to do.

“Let me jerk him off, Harv,” he says.

Harvey makes a little surprised noise and then says, "Yeah, all right. Get over here. Might as well make some use of those hands."

Eddie scrambles over, climbing up and kneeling by Jonathan’s head. Jon is wordless and whimpering underneath them, and when Eddie grabs his cock, he jolts, and struggles, starts wailing into Harvey’s fist.

“Oh, hell,” Eddie says breathlessly. Jonathan never seems to shut his eyes.

"You feel really damn good," Harvey growls down at Jonathan. "I hope this hurts. Just for you." He jerks his hips and digs the nails of his free hand into Jon's leg.

Jon screams, and it seems for a second like he’s going to pass out.

“Jesus, Harv!” Eddie says. He gets Jon’s balls in his hand and listens in satisfaction to his wailing. “Need me to get you off?” It sounds assertive. Eddie really means, _Do you need to use me?_

Harvey leans in, pushing deeper inside Jonathan, and kisses Eddie. It's a messy, violent kiss, and he doesn't stop. He drops his free hand to Jon's cock and groans into Eddie's mouth, "Close--"

Eddie whines and hurriedly straddles Jon’s chest, hands on his stomach. It pushes Harvey’s hand away from Jon’s mouth, and suddenly his noises burst out and echo around the room. Eddie moans and shuts his eyes and opens his mouth wide. Harvey's tongue in Eddie's mouth mirrors the rhythm of his cock in Jon. He tenses and cries out, not breaking the kiss, driving in deep as he starts to come.

Eddie fumbles, but he gets Jon’s cock in his hand and jerks him off fast. Jon sounds more and more desperate behind him, and he doesn’t want to _leave_ him there.

“Fuck,” Eddie says, muffled, voice catching. Harvey’s tongue is deep in his mouth.“Fuck. Come on, Jon. Come on, Jon.” Harvey’s teeth knock against his as he finishes, and there’s a skip in Jon’s voice, and then Jon comes sobbing, hot on Eddie’s hand, trying to hit both of them with anything and missing.

Harvey pulls out, tosses the condom in the general direction of the wastebasket, and sits down heavily next to Eddie and Jon. He gives Jon a pat on the chest. "Good," he says.

“That’s it?” Eddie says. “Christ, Harv.” Jon is still shivering and reaching. Eddie looks around and finds tissues on the bedside table. He cleans Jon up quickly and then snatches the throw (he has _throws_ ) off the back of the armchair. “We’re still here, right?” He covers Jon up and curls up next to him, holding him tight.

Harvey stares at him incredulously. After a minute, he says, "I see your point. Still not settling down, but. I get it." He puts one hand in Jon's hair and the other on Eddie's back.

“Jon doesn’t want to settle down,” Eddie mumbles, eyes shut.

"Just you, then," Harvey says. He squeezes Eddie's shoulder and settles in next to the two of them.

“Yes, just me.”

“Never fear, Mr. Dent,” Jonathan mumbles from under his blanket.


End file.
